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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592930">Fast Cars, Danger, Fire, and Knives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dionysianrevelry/pseuds/dionysianrevelry'>dionysianrevelry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Johnny's a real dick sometimes but we knew this, Mention of Character Death, Porn Without Plot, Streetkid V, V doesn’t know how to use beds, V's also a dick, adrenaline rush, high speed car chases from the police, mention of unrequited pining from river, spoilers for Main Quest, unhealthy relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:21:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dionysianrevelry/pseuds/dionysianrevelry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny and V find a hidden crumb of mutual understanding in the backseat of a real preem ride.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny/Female V, Johnny/V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fast Cars, Danger, Fire, and Knives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These two... Idiots, the both of 'em.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me."</p>
<p></p><div class="kix-appview-editor-container">
<p></p><div class="kix-appview-editor"><p>Johnny always seems to have a quip for everything V does. It doesn’t matter if she’s simply breathing with a happy air, the asshole has some sarcastic, cynical comment to bring down her mood and spoil her interests with negativity. It’s something she despises about him, something she wishes more than anything that she could manage to pry from her grey matter. It wouldn’t bother her so much if he had anything useful to bring up. </p><p>Always complaining. Always. She could tear her fucking hair out. Hell, maybe the asshole would feel it too, then he’ll know just how he flagrantly tramples over her last nerve like it’s a cigarette into the concrete in an alleyway after a concert. </p><p>“Shut <em> up</em>, dick, I need to focus-” </p><p>The colors of the bundle of wires in her hands start to blend in her optics, prompting a quiet groan. It always hurts, when the Relic malfunctions, and never to any extent that she can just power through it. It’s always debilitating and nearly blinding, making her stomach flip. </p><p>She shudders out a breath. The pigs haven’t caught on yet. </p><p>“Hey, don’t get bitchy with me, you’re the one klepping some suit’s car right next to the police.” Johnny appears on top of the hood of the tricked-out Quadra Turbo that V had been drooling over since she came into the parking garage, “Can’t believe I’m stuck in the head of some stupid, punk ass klepto who can’t even hotwire a car correctly.” </p><p>V <em> snarls </em> at him. He’s been in her head, he knows how many cars she has stolen and how many races she has been in with those cars. At this point, he has to be antagonizing her because he fucking hates her. He hates her as much as she hates him. It’s always fucking <em> something </em>with the bastard floating around in her noggin. </p><p>Angrily, she pushes back the feeling of nausea and finally manages to trigger the ignition, the engine of the Quadra roaring into one of the loudest, sexiest noises V has ever heard in her life. Oh, she feels the rumble of it behind her chest, so satisfying that it washes away her pain. </p><p>“If this car were a woman, I’d make sweet love to her.” She thinks to Johnny, sliding into the seat and stretching her small palm over the gear shift with a shit-eating grin. The lights on the dash are dazzling, incredibly specific, noting the car’s condition. It’s perfect, everything about the situation is perfect.V doesn’t bother with a safety belt. All that matters is living fast, because she has the dying young thing down pat. </p><p>“If this car were a woman, she wouldn’t give your scrawny ass the time of day.” Johnny snorts to himself, materializing in the passenger seat, “You got any plan on gettin’ her past the badges?” </p><p>“‘Course I do.” V’s lips curl to a sadistic smirk, her eyes only glancing to him from the side before dropping the transmission into neutral, stomping her left foot on the clutch and her right on the brakes. </p><p>With a quick motion, the merc shifts the metal beast into first gear and starts toward the group of badges by the entrance of the parking garage. </p><p>“You realize it’s gonna take hours to get them off your tail, right?”</p><p>“Oh, ye of little faith.” She smirks, and shifts up to build more speed toward the group of badges. She takes no move to go around them.</p><p>Yet.</p><p>V drifts the car deftly around the group of now alarmed officers, the wheels squealing loud against the concrete pavement as the tail end of the Quadra swerves. The badges exclaim, drawing their weapons as if this perfect specimen of mechanical wonder doesn’t have a chance in hell to deflect their puny bullets. She snorts, laughing near maniacally as she leaves them coughing in the dust. </p><p>They jump into their respective vehicles, sirens blaring as they attempt their sad excuse of a chase. Really, she had no other plan when she walked into this. She just felt like creating some chaos, because it is, after all, nearly her dying day. One fucking thing in her life has to go like normal or she’s going to lose her mind before Johnny can overwrite it. It’s always ‘infiltrate this, Arasaka that’ and never a simple ‘Hey, V, you doing okay?’. It’s always a hurry up and wait, never enjoying anything in the moment. </p><p>So, this one small act of grand theft auto has to be the one to satiate her. Because nothing else about this situation makes her feel fuckin’ peachy. Her best friend’s gone, her life got turned upside down, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that she’s the arbiter of her own destruction. She didn’t <em>have</em> to klep the chip from Arasaka. She could’ve just continued being <em>no one.</em></p><p>Even if it’s the last thing she ever wanted in the world. </p><p>“Hey, V, love the internal monologue. Real preem Poe-level self-loathing right there, but they’re gainin’ on us.” Johnny glances over his shoulder, eyes barely over the rims of the red lenses of his aviators. </p><p>V glares ahead at the road, the city lights shining bright and colorful off the slick, black paint job of the Quadra. She shifts gears, feeling the engine’s roar in her feet as she gasses the pedal to the floor and turns, fish-tailing around a corner. </p><p>The badges fish-tail as well, one of the squad cars sliding clear into the bricks of one of the towering Night City skyscrapers. She can see the fire from the rear-view mirror and the officer scurrying to escape the vehicle’s immediate vicinity before it explodes in a tremendous fashion. The other two gain on her and V curses under her breath, a heavy guitar solo blaring loudly from the radio as she swerves quickly around another block, making her way to the freeway that cuts through NC. </p><p>The goal is the Badlands. She can hide easily in spots where NCPD doesn’t have eyes. After that’s done, she figures she’ll scrub the owners’ info out of its system and hand it off to one of the fixers for a hefty chunk of scratch. </p><p>That’s what she normally did, before this bullshit with Arasaka. However then, she was much less reckless about grand theft auto. The cars were always high priced, but never did she try to actively provoke the badges into a full, high-speed chase. The pigs could always be bought, for races, though. Klepping and flipping is different, though, because some unfortunate suit is gonna piss and moan about the inconvenience when she knows damn well that their insurance will more than replace their expensive toys. </p><p>“Alright, assholes, catch me if you can.” V glares at the turbo as she goes to the on-ramp for the freeway. The engine jumps to life, as if it had been awakened <em> finally</em>. </p><p>She leaves them scrambling in traffic, launching herself into the badlands at the car’s top speed. Once on the dusty road into the desert, she glances over her shoulder to see one pig mobile finally breaking through after her. </p><p>“What, you think just ‘cause you flipped the turbo on that they’ll just let bygones be bygones?” Her imaginary pest notes, nonchalantly throwing his feet up on the dash and lighting a cigarette. </p><p>“Fuck.” She mutters to herself, “Hold on!” </p><p>Off-roading it is. She swerves into the desert, off the main highway out of Night City. Hiding in the dunes is the best solution she has now, and the tunnels are recently cleared of Raffen Shiv thanks to her and Panam. She makes way there, dust shooting out from the wheels of the Quadra. </p><p>Somewhere along the way, it throws the badge off and he’s no longer chasing her. They’re in the clear once V drives them into the tunnels, stopping in an open clearing with the end of the car fish-tailing into a 180. </p><p>She parks them, hand clapped over her eyes as she laughs gleefully in relief. Somehow, she finds herself out of breath from it all, but she cannot stop fucking laughing. What a rush. It was just what she needed, chaos on her own terms, to feel in control of it all again. She’s certain, somewhere in her subconscious, there lies some scrappy little kid from the streets staring at her in wonder and that’s enough to make her continue riding the high of adrenaline. </p><p>“Nice to see you be reckless for once.” Johnny pipes up, tossing his cigarette out of the window and smirking over at her in approval.</p><p>“Shut the <em> fuck </em>up, Silverhand.” V concedes, still grinning as she climbs over the center console to seat herself on his lap. She doesn’t give the bastard a chance for another word before pulling him by the vest up against her, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips. </p><p>He doesn’t shy away from it. No, in fact, both hands find their way to her ass first, squeezing it rough to keep her seated there. V breaks the kiss, ripping the aviators from his face and running her hands up to his jaw, only to pull him right back into her embrace. She can feel his smirk spreading beneath her kiss when she goes to tug at his bottom lip with her teeth. </p><p>At this point, her actions are nearly mindless. Her body is compelled to move on its own, rolling her hips over the hardening length straining against his leather pants. Her hands snake up to tangle in the long, black hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back so she can lay a careless barrage of bruises along his neck and down to his exposed collarbone. </p><p>She doesn’t even register moving until her back hits the leather backseat of the Quadra, with Johnny crawling to the backseat close behind. He closes the distance, somehow out of breath as well, and strips the vest off of him, before ridding V of her tight little jeans. </p><p>She can feel it, all of it. The arousal from both sides mingling in her mind, so intertwined that she doesn’t know where she begins and he ends. The line between their consciousness is so blurred that she feels like she just did a line of something suspiciously strong off of the back of a toilet in a dive on Jig-Jig Street. </p><p>“Damn, V,” Johnny growls, his hands finding her breasts as he kisses up her neck from between her knees, “You look so fuckin’ good right now.” </p><p>“What’d I say about talkin’, Silverhand?” V grins, grabbing him by the waistband of his pants and flipping him to lay on his back, finding her way back to his lap. “Don’t want your ego ruinin’ this high I’m on.” </p><p>Getting him out of his clothes is easy enough. Johnny has a tendency to pace when stressed and talk with his hands whenever he speaks, fidgeting restlessly in some way. But now, now the rockerboy’s <em>melting</em> into her hands. She doesn’t take her time and she doesn’t hold much fanfare when she finds that his ego in his own cock is more than well-deserved. </p><p>“You <em> like </em>my ego, princess. It’s what sets me apart from those worthless pricks you try to entertain yourself with.” He antagonizes unrepentantly, “You think that badge could get you this hot n’ bothered? If only he knew who you were ridin’ in the backseat of a stolen sports car.” </p><p>When he moves to try and take control again, V pushes him into the leather seats with one hand on his chest and rids herself of her top with the other. River is the last person she wants to think about right now. She doesn’t <em> want </em>to think at all, especially not about the heartbreak she put the poor detective through. </p><p>She can’t see him as anything more than a friend. She can’t find it in her heart to trap anyone into feelings with her, not while her death is hanging over her head. River’s too good for her. </p><p>“He’d-” V pants, “have me sent for a diagnosis for cyberpsychosis. Can’t say I blame him.” </p><p>Her mind can’t quite focus on anything save for her own climax. She figures that Johnny will find his own, because he seems like the type of douchebag to use a girl for what she can bring him and then dump her on her ass afterwards. The ones he doesn’t care about anyway and she knows, for a fact, that he doesn’t fuckin’ care for her one damn bit. </p><p>The radio continues, rock music blaring through the speakers. Every sense V has is piqued, from the touch her mind compensates for when her fingers run through Johnny’s chest hair to the tangy taste of sweat on his skin under her tongue. At the same time, she can experience Johnny’s senses as well. In any other situation, on any other day, she would’ve thought that vicariously fucking herself through someone else’ conscious mind would be at the top level of weird to find in Night City. If only it weren’t so fucking erotic. </p><p>It’s too much, and at the same time, it’s not enough. </p><p>Johnny <em>fits</em> perfectly. Inside her body, inside her mind. They’re not different, not really. They’re hell-raisers, the type of people the corps put hits on for fear of them inspiring others to rise up, both caught up in their own bullshit to see everyone else around them. There’s no wonder why they argue so much, both of their egos are too large to accommodate V’s small body. </p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>. V, gettin’ close.” He groans from beneath her without any warning, hips pushing into her roughly and matching her pace. His grip feels like it could bruise her hips. She can feel it too, the pressure behind the dam rising and threatening to crack through the walls. </p><p>V chuckles breathlessly at that, “Show me what you’re made of, Silverhand.” </p><p>Johnny sits up in the middle of the backseat, keeping V glued to him the entire time. She can feel the heat of him and it’s nigh on overwhelming, only serving to push her closer to that edge. Her hand makes its way to her core, to help speed her along to her climax, but Johnny smacks it out of the way and brings her down for another crushing kiss. He shifts his hand down to replace where hers was going, cold silver brushing against her and deftly bringing her to the finish line with circular motions. </p><p>A cry rips from her throat as she feels Johnny fall off of that edge with her, both overstimulating themselves into a breathless heap in the backseat. V rests her forehead against his, panting softly to grasp desperately for some composure. She finally wipes that smirk off of his lips, but only for a small amount of time. </p><p>Oddly enough, in this moment, she can think of nothing more appealing than Silverhand’s cocky, self-satisfied smirk. It isn’t long before it comes back, but this time, it’s more subdued. Damn near a genuine smile, but not quite. No, he’s too proud of himself for shattering her expectations entirely. </p><p>“Fuckin’ firecracker, aren’t ya?” He mutters, a grin still on his lips when he brings his hand up to her jaw. His thumb gently moves over her bottom lip, in a motion that seems surprisingly soft for the session they just had. “This is usually the part where the output praises me for givin’ them the best lay they’ve ever had.” </p><p>V snorts derisively, pushing herself away and sitting to the side of him, legs draped over his lap. “Only in your dreams, rockstar.” </p><p>The first thing he does is gesture to the cigarette case that fell out of her jacket when he stripped it off of her. V rolls her eyes and lights one, taking a long draw off of it and leans against the interior of the car. She blows a plume of smoke from her lips and Johnny’s amber eyes remain plastered on them, sighing in relief when she does it. </p><p>“Thanks.” He says, and it feels genuine. </p><p>“‘Welcome. No one else I’d rather destroy my lungs for.” V notes, closing her eyes and finally coming off of the adrenaline high from the car chase. She taps her leg idly to the beat of the music thumping through the car’s speakers, keeping in time with it the entire time and singing the occasional line. </p><p>“You’ve got pipes, princess. Damn shame couldn’t have you sing backup for Samurai.” Johnny muses, taking a draw of his own cigarette and tapping on her leg idly.  </p><p>“Not made for backup, Johnny. I belong in the spotlight, center-stage, and always have.” V snarks back confidently. It elicits a laugh from the rockstar’s gut that puts butterflies in her stomach.</p><p>Johnny grabs her hand, and her attention, when he tangles his fingers through hers. He never seemed the type to be touchy-feely after sex, not from what she saw in the few memories of his that she had to live through again. </p><p>“Hey. Look at me.” He speaks up, snatching the cigarette from her hand and snuffing it in the car’s ashtray. He grabs her other hand and V can’t help but stare at their hands first, before looking back to his solemn gaze. </p><p>“So <em> serious </em>all of a sudden. What’s gotcha panties in a knot?” V grins sheepishly. </p><p>“Quiet. This banter’s fun from time to time, but got some serious shit I wanna lay on you for a minute.” There’s something gnawing at him and not only can V see it in his face, she can <em> feel </em>it too. </p><p>“Earlier, when you were kleppin’ the car, caught wind of you thinkin’ that I hate you.” He forces out, “Now, I ain’t one for gettin’ soft or anything like that, but I need you to know that I don’t hate you. Not in the slightest. And I got a feelin’ that you don’t hate me either.” </p><p>V rolls her eyes in a grand, exaggerated way with a smile, sitting back the way she was before he grabbed her. “Can’t keep shit from you, can I?” She concedes quietly, looking down at their hands, “Look, don’t worry about it-” </p><p>“No, <em> dammit </em>. You ain’t brushin’ me off on this, V.” He asserts lowly, roughly shoving his fist over her shoulder and onto the car’s interior, “You think you can just run your pretty mouth and get out of ownin’ up to your own shit, huh? No, you’re listening, got it, sweetheart?” </p><p>V doesn’t really know what to say, but when she looks at him, she can feel his irritated, angry gaze boring into her very soul. She doesn’t say anything, not yet. Her eyes flicker from his, down to his lips, then back to his eyes. Her heart thumps loudly in her chest and it feels like eternity before he speaks again. </p><p>“We can go back to pretending to hate each other, fine by me. But you can’t hide how you feel about me. I piss you off, I tend to have that effect on people. ‘Specially corpos and women.” Johnny explains, “But I need ya to know that I don’t hate you. It happened and we have a choice to make, whether to move on and act like nothin’ happened or to own up about how we feel about each other. This wasn’t just a fuck for you, was it?” </p><p>V stays silent for a moment, staring unseeing up at him. His voice feels like it’s miles away, every word from his smooth voice echoing in the distance.</p><p>“Valerie.” He presses, “Talkin’ to you, gonk.” </p><p>“It happened. But I don’t know how to begin processing this shit.” V mutters, rubbing her temples, “All of it, it’s temporary, ain’t it? One way or another, either you die or I die, again. How’s anything I feel gonna factor into that? Let’s just… take it slow, alright? Still can barely wrap my head around the idea of having you around all day, everyday.” </p><p>Johnny nods solemnly, his fist relaxing as he leans back into his spot, staring out the front glass. “Gotta cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah. Feel the same way.” </p><p>“If there’s any engram in the world that coulda been stuck in my grey matter, I’m glad it’s you, Silverhand.” She admits, looking over at him with softer green eyes, “Even if you are an insufferable prick sometimes.” </p><p>He merely smiles without an ounce of cockiness, and it feels like a hug. </p><p>“Thanks, V. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Let’s get outta here.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Nice dream. Award winning performance from me, if I say so myself.” is all she hears when her eyes finally crack open, the sun shining into her apartment window and nearly blinding her. She fell asleep in her clothes again, too exhausted to take them all off and actually get comfortable in her own bed. </p><p>Hell, she didn’t even get under the duvet, just collapsed sideways onto the mattress. </p><p>“Saw all that, huh?” V groans, rubbing her eyes, and staring up at the ceiling, “Go on. Waiting for the relentless teasin’. I’m all ears.” </p><p>“Nah.” He appears next to her, propping his cheek up with his elbow as he lays next to her. His amused eyes don't leave her. “It was <em> our </em> dream, princess. Same brain, ‘member? You took Misty’s pills on a stomach full of tequila and nothin’ else.” </p><p>V feels it immediately as she sits up, the pressure in her skull and the horrible headache that accompanies it. She groans, falling back onto her pillows face first, hugging around them for support. She feels a hand slide up her hip, gently squeezing before retracting entirely. </p><p><em>Smack! </em>Pain radiates across her ass cheek and she yelps, her own hand moving to cover it to prevent it from happening again. </p><p>“The <em> fuck </em> was that for, asshole?!” She exclaims angrily.</p><p>“Let’s go klep a car. I’m thinkin’... Quadra Turbo-R 740, real expensive, preem shit.” Johnny smirks, leaning against the edge of the cubby that holds her bed with his shoulder, arms crossed, “Maybe we can drive out to the Badlands and make that dream a reality?” </p><p>V looks incredulous at him, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. </p><p>“Coffee and a shower first. You look like Satan himself came to kick you in the nuts.” Johnny snickers, "Like <em>fresh</em> hell."</p><p><em>"Dick</em>.” V throws a pillow at him, that goes straight through him and hits the floor. </p><p>“Can’t wait to see you on it.” He smirks confidently, flirting absolutely shamelessly, “Bet it’s an even prettier sight in the waking world. Damn shame I can’t drive though, wouldn’t have let the badges get that close to us.” </p><p>“I’ll be sure to go for a new record on time then.” V rolls her eyes, grinning.</p><p>It’s gonna be a long day, but she hasn’t been ready to greet excitement like this in a long damn time.</p></div></div>
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